Master of Death Harry
by procrastinatingwriter
Summary: As Master of Death, Harry has lots of responsibilities. So far, he's doing great, and there's no major catastrophes. Until Voldemort in another world, decides to mess things up.


A cloaked figure with tousled black hair, and startling green eyes sat in a chair at a desk. The man was not wearing glasses ever since he had become the Master of Death, and a light was on in the room. The strange thing was, it was just floating in the air. The man was signing forms and requests for all the souls that died. And, as the Master of Death, Harry Potter had a lot to do.

To be honest, Harry had been quite surprised when he died, to find himself in an office. And Death greeted him there. It was a long explanation, as Death introduced what the Master of Death did. Harry was the current Master of Death, because years and years ago, he had created the three hallows waiting for someone to claim them all. Whoever did, would be the Master of Death. Because of that, Harry met all the other deities of Death, and he was taught the responsibilities he had. Sometimes, being Master of Death had its downsides.

Harry's main job was filling out paperwork. Judging souls, sending them to their reincarnation of whatever they believed in, and so on. But, as the Master of Death, Harry never truly died. it was virtually impossible to die. It had happened a couple times, but Harry learned that sometimes, too many people died. It was also his job to keep the balance between life and death.

As the Master of Death, he'd also learned about alternate universes, paradoxes, and generally just different worlds, or dimensions. He'd learned quite a bit about different dimensions. Monsters, aliens, dragon riders, medieval times, superheroes, and whatnot. And it was his job to watch over them all.

The thing was, people died all the time everywhere. The plus side was that certain deities of different beliefs mostly took care of their own people, (obviously they obeyed Harry) so he was relatively fine. Once in a while, Death had told him, there would be a major disturbance in the balance because some psycho decided that killing everyone and taking over the world was on their game plan. Luckily, he only encountered it a couple times.

If that happened, it would take months, maybe years, to rebalance that world again. Not to mention all the paperwork, but if that world had major deaths or war and it was in a certain deity's realm...the paperwork stopped flowing for him, and Harry went on vacation, leaving whoever did it, to the paperwork.

Currently, Harry was interrupted by a huge downpour of paper. Forms went flying. Harry growled and took out the Elder wand, tapping it a few times. An image appeared in front of him, and information streamlined in. It was an alternate world of Voldemort. There was no prophecy, and Voldemort was murdering, muggle-born, muggles, and any Order of the Phoenix member. As an added bonus, Voldemort happened to be perfectly sane and capable of thinking clearly. Dumbledore and his order were reduced to a few members.

Another bundle of paperwork appeared. Harry glared at it, as if he could make it disappear. Death popped in. "Master, I fear a world has gone out of balance. It requires your aid immediately."

Harry glared. "How long?"

Death looked slightly nervous. With that tone of voice, it meant that Harry was pissed. He could only hope it wasn't at him. "Six to twelve months."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, messing it up some more. "Watch my office." It wasn't a question. Death gulped nervously. To leave now would be suicide, but if he stayed, all the paperwork would become his.

Harry popped into existence, his invisibility cloak on. He took a deep breath, pocketing his wand. He wouldn't need it, and it'd be more of a nuisance than anything else. He glided forward, where the Death Eaters and the last of the Order of Phoenix were dueling. Overpowered, and outnumbered, the Order was losing. Dumbledore and Voldemort dueled nearby, sparks flying.

Harry removed his cloak, and ignoring any sounds of battle, marched toward Voldemort. He vaguely hear Dumbledore whisper, "Death…" but he wasn't sure.

"Voldemort, flee-er of Death…" Harry started.

"Kill him!" Voldemort shrieked at his followers, as fifty jets of green light sped towards Harry. Harry waved his hand, banishing the spells at once. He then swept his hands in an arc, outwards, and everyone omit Voldemort were sent flying away from them. Harry proceeded to make a shield. He would rather not be interrupted.

"I am the Master of Death, Voldemort. That won't stop me. But, I will end you if you don't tell me WHAT GIVES YOU THE BLOODY HELL IDEA OF KILLING EVERYONE!"

Voldemort winced, and backed up, a shocked expression on his face. "Master of Death, accept my sincere apologies-"

Harry ignored him, cutting him off as he continued. "YOU WILL QUIT KILLING OR I WILL LET THE DEAD RISE AGAIN AND DRAG YOUR LIMP BODY AWAY!" Harry let out breath, smiling slightly. Voldemort swallowed slowly. In the distance, Death gulped. That smile never meant good things.

"Or else...I will turn you into a muggle."

There was a collective gasp from everyone watching, and Voldemort's already pale face became bone-white, as he stared dead-ahead. His hand twitched slightly as if he wasn't sure if he should blast Harry away (not that it would work) or apparate away.

"Answer NOW!" Harry roared. He could already see the paper pile getting bigger. He resisted the urge to rub his temples.

"Ye-yes. I'll stop at once." Voldemort said hurriedly, and a bit panicked. Surrendering was better than being turned into a muggle. And, it was the Master of Death himself. At least his horcruxes were safe.

Harry smirked. Voldemort deserved this so much, because Voldemort had generated so much paperwork. "And, because you raised so much chaos and imbalance, I know you'll have the best of times introducing new muggle-borns into the world of magic. Any complaint, and you'll be working as a doctor in a muggle hospital bringing in newborns. Also, since I'm feeling helpful, here are your horcruxes." Harry snapped his fingers, and they appeared before him, burning in fiendfyre. "You're welcome." Voldemort's eye twitched before he fainted.

"Thank you, Master of Death, for helping us with Voldemort." Dumbledore said, butting in, his face devoid of his usual grandfatherly-ness.

"Shut it," snapped Harry, whirling on Dumbledore. "You should've stopped him earlier, and unless you want to piss me off, stop bloody talking!"

Arriving back into his office, the smile left Harry's face as he noticed the huge pile of forms. "Death…" Harry started slowly. Death left as quickly as he could.


End file.
